


A Little Morning Delight

by naturesinmyeye



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Gift Fic, Male Solo, Nothing but smut smut porn, Sandor rubs one out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5172878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturesinmyeye/pseuds/naturesinmyeye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gift fic for the fantastically awesome and fierce ChloeMagea. </p><p>This is set in the universe that she created and features her original OC WOC Imani. </p><p>IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ A SANDOR OC OR SANDOR/POC FIC THEN PLEASE . . . .just walk away and shut the door quietly. </p><p>I wrote this for a friend and for fun to push my comfort smut zone while writing. </p><p>Nothing here but Sandor jerking off.  Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Morning Delight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chloemagea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chloemagea/gifts).



There was a soft, cautious knock on his door. Slowly, Sandor let his eyes open and blink several times. The sheets of his bed had drifted down his chest and there was a slight chill in the air this morning. Pulling at the course linen, he suddenly hissed. The tug on the sheets had scraped along his hardened cock. _Fuck me, not this again_. His flesh was straight as an arrow beneath the covers. All night he had dreamt of Imani; her gorgeous, onyx eyes begging him to fuck her in every way possible, and here he was once again, stuck with the result. He would have thought having her twice the previous night would have left his cock satiated, but no, the bastard wanted _more_.  The knock at the door sounded again.

 

“Fucks sake,” he groaned quietly, then yelled, “what?!”

 

“M’sorry to disturb you m’lord” –he rolled his eyes at the title he’d told the servants over and over again he didn’t want or need- “there’s a tray for you.”

 

_What in the hells?_

“From the Lady Imani,” the servant, a female, continued to speak though the door.

 

That got his attention. This was new. They didn’t usually let on to their.  . . whatever the fuck it was they were playing at. But he knew his summer bird was clever. She would have paid the serving girl handsomely for her silence.

 

“Stop standing in the hall then,” he barked, sitting up in the bed. “The door’s bloody open!” There was still a half pitched tent in the bed but he didn’t give a rat’s arse about it. It wasn’t as if a lowly kitchen wench hadn’t seen a cock before. He was being rather decent about it by his standards. At least he was keeping himself covered.

 

The girl entered and gave him a half curtsey, keeping her eyes lowered. More so from fear and disgust than respect, he knew. “Put it over there and get out,” he ordered, pointing to a table in the corner of the room. It was one of the kitchen girls alright. The skinny blonde one without any teats to speak of; nothing but a twig and some pouty lips. Sandor could practically imagine the bones that would stick out from her ribs and hips. Nothing like Imani, with her curved ass and supple teats; padded in all the right places. His cock gave a hard throb beneath the sheets of his bed.

 

“Just leave it,” he snapped at the girl, who was starting to take dishes from off the tray to set them on the small table in his room. The startled girl dropped the tray with a clang and turned to leave. She looked up on her way out, let her gaze drift and gasped, a hand flying to her mouth.

 

“It’s not for you, slag! I said get out, girl! Don’t make me beat it into you!”  The stick thin wench yelped in her throat, turning and fleeing from the room. His door crashed behind her.  

 

Sandor rose from the bed and bolted his door. One way or another he had a problem that needed dealt with. He was naked. He never had liked sleeping in breeches or a nightshirt. Feeling confined during the day in armor, it felt good to let cool linens caress his skin at night. _Food or a fist fuck first?_  Sandor debated for only a moment before approaching Imani’s gift, his curiosity at what his – _Fuck! Companion? Lover?_ \- had sent winning out over relief for the time being. His cock was having none of it though, bouncing and smacking against his thighs as he walked, only worsening the urge to touch himself.

 

The entire plate glistened. Fresh oily nuts, shining dried fruits, olives drowning in their own juices and a large platter of shimmering, deep yellow mango. The fruit had been peeled and cut into both paper thin slices and large, uneven chunks. Sandor couldn’t help but wonder if Imani’s own hands had prepared the tray for him. He imagined her talented fingers paring each fruit and carefully laying it out on the platter for him. Did she indulge in a piece or two while she worked? No doubt she had, her love for the succulent fruit well known to him. Had she thought about him and their time together while she did so?  Had she –he swallowed- touched herself after? As he was going to do?  That too, he could well envision her doing. He realized suddenly his left hand was already on his cock, stroking it absently. The pace was slow and almost clumsy with his weaker hand but he needed his stronger one free for a minute more.

 

Reaching out with his right hand, he grabbed at a piece of roughly cubed mango. Letting the fruit slide past his lips, he practically moaned at the taste. The same sunny, tropical flavor of Imani’s cunt burst over his tongue. Another piece followed the first and another after that; the taste of his woman’s juices stirring the shaft in his palm. There was half a goblet of dark red left over from the previous night. Sandor drank it all in one gulp, savoring the mix of tart and sour that hit him in the back of his jaw like a blow. Two of his favorite tastes blended together in his mouth, reminding him of nights in Imani’s chambers. Nights filled with fast emptied, crystal wine decanters and pink, full lips sucking at his cock.

 

“Fuuuck,” he breathed, drawing the word out as his fist closed around him self. His right hand shook as he reached for more fruit; more of that sweet nectar that flowed between her legs. The head of his cock rubbed over a rough patch of skin and the cubes between his fingers squelched when he made a fist in reaction to the sensation.

 

He stared at the ripe, pulpy mango dribbling through the spaces between his knuckles. Opening his fist, there was nothing but mashed, yellow stickiness covering his flattened palm. Shrugging, he licked the oozing juices in one long swipe from wrist to fingertip. Then he smacked his cock into the lubricated hand, growling immediately and tossing his head back.  It was slick, wet, hot and tight just like her, his goddess of the Isles.

 

“Mmmmani” he slurred, breathing heavily now that he had a good grip on himself. There was both him and her in his palm that he fucked with mounting pleasure. The scent of her was all around him as he opened his eyes to gaze at the tray of slippery looking fruit. He could see himself in his mind’s eye, sliding inside Imani’s cunt from behind with her pert little ass up in the air, the deep coral color of her flesh made all the brighter by the dark hair and skin that surrounded it.

 

He yanked at his cock. Faster and harder, gripping the table in front of him while he ground his teeth and felt his climax build. When it hit him he roared, seed spraying out of his shaft and all over the table. Large pearls of it dribbled over the platter of mango. Once he had his breath back and realized what he’d done, he laughed. Laughed long and loud as he hadn’t done so in years, falling back in his chair.

 

He wasn’t eating that fucking mess now that was for certain.  He’d leave it for the blonde wench to clean. Imani had probably never intended for him to eat it anyway. This was a game for her; one he enjoyed but still, Sandor Clegane wasn’t a man to be toyed with or play games with. He’d make sure to give her something to nibble and suck on as well later that night. 


End file.
